But I Had A Date
by GreyGirl31
Summary: Steve has just awoken from his decades-long nap in the Arctic and is trying to adjust to life in modern-day New York. Flashbacks from the war up to the Hydra plane crash alternating from Peggy and Steve's POV.
1. Chapter 1

Steve was tired. Standing in his personal gym, his shoulders slouched, head hanging and his eyes shadowed with dark circles, he looked it. He was supposed to be training, keeping his super-muscles toned and fit, but he just couldn't muster the energy.

He hadn't been sleeping well as of late. Actually, ever since he was found as a human popsicle in the Arctic, he'd been having trouble getting some proper shut-eye. Probably because he was afraid to sleep for too long. Every minute he spent unconscious took him another minute further away from Peggy.

_Peggy_. He sighed. He thought about her in his every waking minute, and she came to him in his dreams every night. But no matter how much he missed her, there was nothing he could do about it. No way to go back.

He'd sifted through some public records, searching for word of the girl he'd only just gotten to know yet still loved, and had come up with a death certificate. She had passed on a mere three years before he'd been brought back to life. _Three years. _His heart ached at the tragic timing. They never got to have their first dance.

Steve grudgingly forced his feet into an offensive stance before his extra-strength punching bag, and gave a few warm-up swings.

Director Nick Fury of SHIELD had been in contact with Steve a few times, to discuss this Avengers Initiative thing. Steve didn't really understand what it was about, but from what he got out of their conversations, apparently the world was looking for a hero. Yeah, he'd heard that one before.

He squared his shoulders and punched five times in quick succession, pretending the bag was a fierce opponent. Getting into a rhythm, he swung and ducked, give and take, give and take.

It was strange, thinking of himself as a hero.

_Shoot, I'm just a kid from Brooklyn_, he thought. _Nothing to make a big fuss over._

But he knew that technically, he _was_ something to make a fuss over. A man, frozen for 70 years, comes back to life, no physical signs of damage or aging whatsoever. He was a medical miracle. Or more accurately, a scientific breakthrough. A triumph of a government experiment.

Steve gave his punching bag another quick jab, then threw his boxing gloves on the floor and let himself collapse on the mat. He rolled flat onto his back and lay there, exhaling heavily.

He thought for a minute on the miracle that was himself. He was _alive_. After spending decades in a giant ice cube, he was alive.

_70 years. Holy icebergs. That's one heck of a beauty sleep. _He pondered on that for a while, letting his mind wander freely.

He reached into his pocket, a product of habit, and pulled out a delicate pocket watch. Inside was a picture of a young woman in a military uniform. She was beautiful, soft, with a kind face, although it had an air of strength and determination behind it. Dark set curls framed her face and highlighted a set of lush eyelashes. He stared into her once-warm eyes, deadened by the aged photo, and sighed to himself. He closed his eyes.

_70 years._

_Well, Dr. Erskine's experiments definitely worked, didn't they? At least I was something of a success. His research wasn't for nothing. _He thought back to the day of his transformation, the day he went from being a kid to a soldier. The memory was bittersweet, for though he had gained much from the experiment, he had lost so much more. He had lost the Doctor, the first person to give him a chance; his best friend, Bucky; and then Peggy, the one person who had believed in him. And that was almost too much for him to handle.

He slid the watch back into his pocket, then sat up again and grabbed his gloves from beside him. With a grunt, he dragged himself off the mat and returned to making mulch out of his punching bag, letting all thoughts of another time slowly slip away.


	2. Chapter 2

_7 Decades Earlier_

* * *

_Peggy paced across the control room, unable to soothe her hyperactive nerves. What seemed like hours had passed since she and the Colonel had watched Steve climb aboard Schmidt's gigantic Hydra plane, and they had yet to hear from the Captain. She was becoming frantic with worry._

_Suddenly, there was a short hiss of static from the radio, then a familiar voice: "Come in; this is Captain Rogers. Do you read me?"_

_Peggy's heart jumped in her chest. He was alive!_

_The radio tech replied, "Captain Rogers, what is your—" but before he could finish his query, Peggy snatched the receiver out of his hands._

"_Steve, is that you? Are you alright?" Her immense relief was evident in her voice._

"_Peggy!" Steve exclaimed, sounding equally as reassured to hear Peggy at the other end of the line. "Schmidt's dead!" _

"_What about the plane?" Peggy questioned._

_Steve deliberated for a brief moment, unsure of what to say. "That's a little bit tougher to explain..."_

"_Okay, well give me your coordinates; I'll find you a safe landing site," Peggy countered, her military training kicking in._

_Steve inspected the controls hurriedly, and to his dismay he noticed six pre-programmed missiles ready to deploy. His voice hardened slightly. "There's not gonna be a safe landing. But I can try and force it down."_

_A lump of fear rose in Peggy's throat. Realising Steve's intention, she hastily attempted to change his mind. "Uh, I-I'll get Howard on the line, he'll know what to do..."_

_Steve interrupted brusquely, "There's not enough time! This thing's moving too fast and it's heading for New York." He paused, profoundly wishing he didn't have to say what was about to come out of his mouth. "I gotta put her in the water."_

_Desperate, she began to plead with him. "Please, don't do this. We have time, we can work it out!" She struggled to hold back a wave of emotion that was threatening to overwhelm her. With some effort, she managed to push it down._

_In a softer tone, Steve explained, "Right now I'm in the middle of nowhere. If I wait any longer, a lot of people are going to die."_

_He looked down at the control panel again and observed his coordinates on the map. There wasn't much time left._

"_Peggy, this is my choice," he said gently._

_Peggy wanted so badly to argue, to say no, but she knew what Steve was saying was true. She realised that this wasn't Steve speaking to her anymore, this was the Captain, the rational, level-headed soldier, and she knew he was absolutely right. So she remained silent as her eyes began to water, and she let her emotions overtake her._

_Steve steeled his nerves and angled the plane in a steep downward descent._

_After a brief period of silence on the line, Steve said softly, "Peggy..."_

"_I'm here," she reassured him._

"_I'm gonna need a rain check on that dance," he apologised, ending in a tone of resignation that chilled Peggy to the bone. This was the end. He was giving up._

_Holding back tears, and struggling to keep her voice steady, Peggy agreed, "All right. A week, next Saturday, at the Stork Club."_

"_You've got it." They both knew it was a promise that couldn't be kept._

_She tried, and failed, to make light of the situation. "Eight o'clock on the dot. Don't you dare be late, understood?" she bantered, denying the tears that were slowly clouding her vision._

_He joked back in return, "You know, I still don't know how to dance," his Brooklyn accent adding a charming note that Peggy had always secretly liked._

_His remark got her going again. "I'll show you how. Just be there," she pleaded shamelessly, her voice shaking._

"_We'll have the band play something slow," he decided with a small smile. "I'd hate to step on your—" The radio cut off abruptly, and the uninterrupted sound of static was deafening._

"_Steve! Steve?" Peggy cried out frantically as a single tear traced a path down her cheek. Irrationally, she continued calling his name, even though she knew there wouldn't be a response. "Steve?" She paused and choked back a sob. "Steve...?"_

_It was no use. The Captain, her Captain, was gone. She dropped her head into her hands and wept for her lost hero, her lost chance, and her lost love._

* * *

Next chapter: Peggy.


	3. Chapter 3

_One Year Later_

* * *

Something was off with Peggy. She'd been broody, silent, and aloof, ever since Steve—well, ever since the Hydra plane went down. At work she was tired, and at home she was listless at best. She seemed disinterested in life. No matter what she or anyone else did, there was no change in her demeanour.

The Colonel had taken pity and granted her a leave of absence; or at least, he'd tried. He encouraged her to go out, try to meet new people, spend time with friends, to take her mind off... things. She respectfully turned down his advice, claiming that work was more important to her than any personal matters. They both knew better, though; the only reason why work was more important was because she forcefully made it her priority.

There weren't too many friends anyway; being in the military made it kind of hard to have a normal social life, especially for a female careerist like herself. So she came to work every day and just plugged on, like The Little Train That Could.

It was funny, actually. She was unstoppable. She had never worked this hard in her entire life, never devoted herself this fully to her career. She found herself being promoted twice in the span of a year, something unheard of for a woman in the forces. Yet it all meant nothing to her. To Peggy, it was still just a job, something that had to be done. She took no pride or pleasure in it.

Everyone knew the reason behind this dramatic change in Peggy. She was once a vibrant, sharp, strong young woman, highly respected and well liked. But now, simply put, she was lifeless. _H_e had done this to her. He had taken away her life's light. Or, more accurately, he became her light. But then his was extinguished, and it doused hers along with it.

Steve truly was like her godly light; the glow of goodness and honour, stability and fidelity. To Peggy, his every action was saint-like. He was kind and honest and chivalrous and brave, everything a girl like her was looking for. And although she denied it vehemently to anyone who asked, she couldn't stop thinking of him. She couldn't stop _mourning_ him.

Peggy had only known him for a few short years, yet he was as important to her as... well, she didn't exactly know what he was to her. But she absolutely hated how much she cared for him. She was a military woman, for Pete's sake; a straightforward, no-nonsense type of gal. But no matter how much she lied to everyone, she still couldn't deny her feelings for the super soldier who took her breath away.

Peggy missed him so much that it physically hurt inside. But she couldn't let the pain get in the way of doing her job. What she didn't realise was that she was instead letting it get in the way of living her life.

—

On a particularly dreary day, Peggy received a call from a few girlfriends. They were getting a group together to go out dancing, and they asked her to come along. Remembering the Colonel's suggestion, she grudgingly accepted the invitation.

That night, she spent way too much time on her hair and makeup, getting dolled up for nothing. She made sure to wear her favourite lipstick and her choice rouge to accent her dimpled cheeks, hoping to force herself to feel better. It didn't work.

Peggy was ready and waiting when the girls arrived to fetch her. Opening the door, she almost expected to see Steve standing on her porch in a smart jacket and tie, ready for that date, and her face transformed into a radiant, open smile in expectation. But upon seeing her friends there instead, her daydream was shattered, and her mouth twisted slightly into a forced grin that looked more like a grimace than anything else.

The evening was nothing like she had hoped. There was no soft lighting, slow music, or a tall, handsome blonde man to escort her. Feeling another wave of depression, she slunk off to a table in the corner of the club and sat down to watch her friends have a good time without her.

Sometime in the middle of all the merriment and dancing, her girlfriends tried to coax her out onto the dance floor, hoping to force her to have some fun too. Stubborn, she adamantly refused to even vacate her chair. Flummoxed, they regretfully left her on her own and returned to their dancing partners.

After sitting for what felt like hours upon end of utter disinterest and boredom, a tall, beefy, rather unattractive guy sauntered over from the other side of dance floor. He leaned down next to her, stuck his face by her ear and arrogantly drawled, "Hey there doll face, let's say you and I blow this joint and grab some grub, huh?" She gave him a disdainful look that clearly told him to beat it, but clueless as he was, he missed the signal.

Still waiting for a response, the man prompted her again. "Come on, sweetheart, we can go have a good time somewhere else, if ya know what I mean..."

That was the last straw. She was sick of all the childish, rude, inconsiderate jerks that made up the entire male population. _What happened to chivalry?_ she thought sarcastically. _Did it die along with Steve?_ Without a word, she stood up, swung her arm back and popped him a good one, right in the kisser. She didn't wait for the man to say anything in response, she simply grabbed her things and stormed out of the club, her friends gawking at her retreating figure with horrified looks on their faces.

Needless to say, they didn't take her out dancing again.


	4. Chapter 4

_Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick._

Steve lay in bed, listening to the alien sound of his standard-issue alarm clock, given to him by SHIELD when he was first instated as an official agent. The damned thing kept waking him up at obscene hours of the morning with its "realistic" digitized clock sounds, and he was growing tired of the lack of sleep. No pun intended. Although he wasn't getting any sleep anyhow, alarm or not.

Everything was different now. Everything had changed. Everywhere he looked, he was surrounded by all sorts of newfangled contraptions, and he couldn't seem to find his place anymore. Society had moved on without him. Life had moved on. _Peggy_ had moved on. And he was left behind. Well, behind, yet ahead. It was mind-boggling. He was lost, an old man in a sea of new.

_Tick. Tick._

Irritated by the infernal ticking, Steve looked accusingly towards the source of the noise, a small, flat rectangular box with bright red digits illuminated in the dark. It read three thirty-seven. Much too early to be awake. Even the birds had not yet risen for their daily chorus in welcome of the dawn. With a sigh, he rolled over so he lay flat on his back, head resting on his solitary pillow, and stared at the ceiling. There was nothing to look at up there, nothing to distract him, so it helped lull him to sleep. Usually. Sometimes the monotony couldn't keep his roaming thoughts at bay—it just exacerbated them.

_Tick. Tick. Tick.  
_

* * *

_Steve sat at a crowded, noisy bar with Bucky, drinking a pint. They were chatting with the guys, having a good time, when suddenly a hush fell over the joint. They looked over for the source of the disturbance and saw Peggy entering the bar. She wore black heels and a head-turning red dress with a fitted waist and a very low neckline. Her hair was down in soft finger waves that framed her face. When she spotted Steve and Bucky sitting at the bar, she turned and headed in their direction._

"_Captain," she greeted Steve formally. "Agent Carter," Steve said with a respectful nod. Bucky gave a simple "ma'am," then looked her up and down, obviously admiring the way the cut of her dress accentuated her slim waist and full hips._

"_Howard needs you at headquarters tomorrow. He has some equipment for you to try," she said softly to Steve. When she turned to look accusingly at Bucky for checking her out, Steve couldn't help but take the opportunity to do his own once-over. His eyes quickly flashed down and back up her form._

_When she turned back to look at him, he acknowledged her orders."Of course," he said respectfully._

_She gave a quick sweeping glance around the bar, noting the men drinking and singing along raucously to the lively piano. "I see your top squad is prepping for duty," she said with a half-smirk and almost a tone of condescension._

"_You don't like music?" Bucky asked her presumptuously._

"_No, I do like music, actually," she corrected him, looking at Steve with a soft and almost suggestive smile that Steve didn't pick up on. "I might, when this is all over, even go dancing," she hinted in a playful tone, still looking at Steve_

"_Then what are we waiting for?"Bucky said coyly, trying in vain to capture Peggy's interest._

"_The right partner," Peggy replied with a smile. She had been staring into Steve's eyes the entire time._

"_Oh-eight-hundred, Captain," she reminded Steve of his appointment the next morning, then she turned and exited as elegantly as she had come._

"_Yes, ma'am, I'll be there," Steve replied, a little late._

"_Damn," Bucky shook his head in disbelief. "I'm invisible."_

_Steve looked at him quizzically._

"_I'm turning into you," Bucky explained. "It's like a horrible dream."_

"_Don't take it so hard; maybe she's got a friend," Steve jested, clapping Bucky on the shoulder._

* * *

_Steve arrived at the appointed time the next morning at headquarters. He approached a secretary reading the latest newspaper and announced his presence. "Excuse me, I'm looking for Mr. Stark."_

_The secretary responded without looking up from her paper, "He's in with Colonel Philips." A few seconds later, she tore her glance away from the news and did a double take when she saw Steve standing before her. "Of course, you're welcome to wait here," she said very suggestively. Steve awkwardly nodded his thanks and leaned against the desk opposite hers._

_The girl folded the paper back to the front page and spun her chair around, facing Steve. "I uh, heard about what you did," she told him, holding up the front page news, displaying a story about the Captain's act of war heroism._

"_Oh. The, uh... yeah. That." Steve nodded and smiled graciously, feeling awkward and out of place with all her attention focussed on him. "Well that's just, you know, just doing what needed to be done," he explained humbly._

"_Sounds like more than that; you saved nearly four-hundred men." She smiled at him coyly. He paused, then returned the gesture, feeling slightly confused._

"_Really, it's not a big deal," he tried to convince her modestly._

_She stood up and sauntered towards him. "Tell _that_ to their _wives_."_

_Steve was starting to get a bit twitchy. "Uh, I don't think they were all married..." He shrugged his shoulders nervously, crossing and uncrossing his arms over his chest._

_The secretary kept walking forward until there was a mere foot of space between them. "You're a hero," she breathed delicately into his face._

"_Well, that-that depends on the definition of-"_

_She cut him off. "The women of America," she whispered, reaching between his shirt buttons and pulling out his tucked-in tie, "owe you their thanks."_

_Steve gawked at the girl, completely taken aback. He'd never had a dame put the moves on him before, let alone a real looker like this one. Obviously unsure of how to respond to the girl's ostentatious flirting, he simply backed away slowly, muttering unintelligible excuses under his breath. But she wasn't about to be discouraged quite so easily; she continued her advances on the naive soldier like a she-lion on the prowl, a coy smile playing at the corners of her lips. "And seeing as they're not here..."_

_Unfortunately for Steve, he had backed himself directly into a corner and she wasn't going to miss her chance at a real famous guy for a change. With nowhere to go, Steve simply stood there, hands raised almost defensively, still blabbering excuses like a fool. But, too late! She grabbed him by the lapels and planted a wet one full on his lips. Not just a chaste little peck, either. It was full-on snogging. There may have even been some tongue involved, though Steve wasn't quite sure. He'd never felt like this before–his mind was in the clouds. He found his arms reaching around the girl's shoulders, seemingly of their own accord, and gently enveloping her in a passionate embrace._

_It had all happened so fast, that impromptu kiss. And then, out of the corner of his eye, who should appear, but none other than the Woman herself._

"_Captain!" Peggy interrupted loudly. Abruptly Steve sprang away from the secretary, his face bright crimson with embarrassment as he looked into Peggy's stony yet quizzical and, oddly, hurt eyes._

"_We're ready for you, if you're not otherwise occupied." Then Peggy about-faced and returned from the direction she came. Ashamed, Steve ran after her. The secretary, on the other hand, had scampered off in the opposite direction with a shy giggle, embarrassed for being caught snogging Captain America by her superior._

"_Agent Carter, wait," he begged. Peggy stopped abruptly and turned to face him once more with a fierce glare. He stopped a yard away, giving her a pleading look._

"_Um…" he had tried to explain the situation, but the words just wouldn't come. So Peggy interjected. "Looks like finding the right partner wasn't that hard after all," she spat._

"_Peggy, that's not what you think it was."_

"_I don't think anything, Captain," she said with disdain. "You wanted to be a soldier, and now you are. And you're getting the perks that come along with it."_

"_Well, hold on, how do I know that you and Stark haven't been… _fonduing_?" he accused desperately._

_Peggy paused, shaking her head in disbelief. "You still don't know a bloody thing about women." Then she turned on her heel and stormed off._

_Steve stood there for a few minutes, utterly confused as to what had just happened. All he knew was that his feelings for Peggy were not subsiding; if anything, they were growing exponentially each time he saw her. But now, after that stunt he just pulled, he might have just blown his chances._

* * *

Steve lay in bed, not really sleeping, yet not really awake, until precisely five thirty-five in the morning, when his alarm went off. He immediately arose and headed down to the gym, where he began his daily exercise ritual. Exercising was one of the few times when Steve felt truly normal. Well, as normal as a super-soldier could ever possibly feel. He revelled in the way his muscles felt when he pushed himself to his physical limit. He still never failed to surprise himself with the amount of sheer power contained in his own body.

But it also served as a constant reminder of the life he once had; life before the experiment; life before the military; life before Peggy. And that was something he'd never really get over. There would always be those little reminders wherever he went, bringing back thoughts of what once was, what could have been, and what never will be.

_Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick..._


End file.
